


Water Damage

by acollectionofficsandshit



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Not Beta Read, Rating May Change, Sort Of, confessions in the rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29466234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acollectionofficsandshit/pseuds/acollectionofficsandshit
Summary: You didn’t know how you were supposed to react to the sight before you, to the waterlogged Daniel standing in your doorway. Judging by the way his clothes were soaked clean through and his curls were plastered to his head in a wet mess, he’d been caught in the torrential downpour still raging outside.“Um, hi?” Daniel offered you a sheepish smile and a little wave. He had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Original Female Character(s), Daniel Ricciardo/Reader, Daniel Ricciardo/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Water Damage

**Author's Note:**

> I tweaked history a little bit in this! So for the purposes of this story, let’s pretend Daniel is still at Red Bull!

You didn’t know how you were supposed to react to the sight before you, to the waterlogged Daniel standing in your doorway. Judging by the way his clothes were soaked clean through and his curls were plastered to his head in a wet mess, he’d been caught in the torrential downpour still raging outside.

“Um, hi?” Daniel offered you a sheepish smile and a little wave. He had the decency to look a little embarrassed. Quickly you made the decision to handle the sudden appearance of your best friend, the one you’d been nursing an increasingly hard to ignore crush on for the past few months, like it wasn’t throwing you for the massive loop it actually was. To keep up that facade, didn’t ask Daniel any questions about why he was knocking on your door at 2 am on a Wednesday night without any heads up, without even a quick text, and why, more importantly, he was still in the city when he should be flying halfway around the world to wherever this weekend’s race was. 

Despite knowing exactly where the Gran Prix this Sunday was, lying to yourself about that was easier than acknowledging you’d memorized the race schedule. Well, schedules plural was more accurate because in addition to the official season schedule, there was the private on Daniel had sent you earlier in the year that outlined the Red Bull private jet’s arrivals and departures.

So, when you opened your mouth, what came out instead of the interrogation you were itching to unleash on him, was “if you stand in that hallway any longer, you’re going to cause water damage and I’m not paying for the maintenance bill for restoration of historical wood floors.” Then you gestured him to come inside.

Daniel stepped into your apartment and pulled the door shut behind him, the water pooled in his shoes audible with every soggy step. But strangely, he didn’t seem to be any rush to say anything or to explain why he was standing dripping water on your kitchen floor like it wasn’t late enough to nearly be early morning. Well fine, you thought, if he wants to be that way about it, two can play that game.

Who knows how long you stand there just staring at one another, the only sound in the entire apartment apart from the rain beating against the windows was the water droplets falling from him? But you were surprise to find you knew what the look in his eyes and way he was holding himself meant. It was frighteningly easy to piece together his body language, the look in his eyes paired with way his shoulders sat slightly back, the muscles tense. He was psyching himself up to say something, and he’d get there eventually, if you just sat back and let Daniel run his course.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” Daniel finally said, breaking the verbal standoff. His entire body seemed to sag once he got the sentence out, falling back into his regular lighthearted confident stance. Judging by the sudden change in, well everything about how he was standing, it seemed like the words had been weighing him down more than the 20 pounds of rain drenched clothing he currently had on.

“How you didn’t want what to go?” You asked, feeling more than a little lost. What the hell was even going on tonight?

Instead of actually answering you, Daniel just grinned in response. He was giving you one of those smiles that just lit up his face with such genuine emotion it was contagious. You have to stamp down the urge to return his grin in kind and just beam back at him the way the corners of your mouth were itching to. But no because you knew the emotions you were nearly keeping in check as it was would pour over the top and consume everything. Even Daniel wouldn’t be able to convince you he hadn’t noticed the longing in your eyes. 

“Sit,” you gestured in the general direction of the stools at the kitchen table. Though Daniel nodded in response, he didn’t budge from where he was standing in the middle of the room. Instead, he just kept his eyes fixed on you as the smile on his face began to fade into something softer, border-lining on tender.

“Are you-” 

“Can I-” he started then broke off at the sound of your voice. The new silence that fills the kitchen, replacing the one that had existed before anyone had spoken, feels tangibly different somehow. More tense and on edge, like the room is teetering on some great precipice. 

“You first?” you offer, the words coming across a little lamely because for some reason, when you start to speak you find you’re feeling a little flustered. Holding his warm gaze in that moment has an effect on you you’ve never let yourself fall victim to in the past. It’s a slippery slope, letting yourself take in your fill of his unfairly gorgeous face and not break off eye contact before the heat starts to rise in your cheeks and the smile you forced down earlier rears its head, until you’re smiling back at him like some nervous schoolgirl. 

“Like I said, this,” he gestures at himself from head to toe, “isn’t how I had wanted this to go or how I’d planned it out, like at all.” Daniel lets out a laugh, not his usual one but one that seems to commiserate the aspirations earlier Daniel had for whatever the hell this was, is, supposed to be. “But” he clears his throat then takes an audibly soggy step forward, the water in his shoes squelching. He glares down at the offending sneakers as if to ask them about their timing decisions before he’s looking back at you, with a fragile, slightly hopeful in his eyes. 

You stay silent and frozen in place as Daniel crosses the room until there’s only a step between you. You’re trying desperately to remain calm and to continuing resolutely ignoring all the rapidly devolving theories your brain is currently churning out in a blind panic as it tries to figure out what the hell is going through Daniel’s head right now and where the fuck this is going to go. Everything and everyone, the whole fucking world stops spinning when his raised hand falters in the air between your bodies, arm half extended towards your face and he chooses now to opens his mouth. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments, thoughts and suggestions are always welcomed and appreciated! Thank you for making it this far in the first place!


End file.
